


Side by Side With a Friend

by scarletjedi



Series: cul de sac AU [2]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bikers, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Rating may change as chapters are added, tags may be added as well
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-25
Updated: 2013-03-31
Packaged: 2017-12-06 10:14:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/734518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletjedi/pseuds/scarletjedi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of one-shots chronicling the relationship between Legolas and Gimli</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. How it All Began

**Author's Note:**

> Many Thanks to Proxydialogue for looking at these for me. :)
> 
> These will update as they are written. There is no clear picture of when, and no clear posting schedule. Mostly, these are a break from other bigger works that I'm writing. On the other hand, I have a *lot* of ideas for this verse.
> 
> You want more of me? Want to see my ramblings, fan works, and sneak peaks? Or is a story you love not updated when you expect it to be? Check out my [tumblr](scarletjedi.tumblr.com) for status updates and more!

Legolas had been in Gimli’s classes since kindergarten. 

Gimli first noticed the other boy’s hair, already long and a paler blond than even cousin Fili. It looked smooth and soft and the light shined off of it and Gimli wanted to touch it to see if some of the shine would come away on his fingertips. 

Then, of course, Legolas laughed when Eomer made fun of Gimli’s curls, and it became clear to Gimli that they were mortal enemies. 

And they fought. 

And fought. 

And fought. 

They fought over toys and each other’s answers and who got to sit where and who got the bigger snack. Their teacher solved the problem by sitting them on opposite sides of the room. It didn’t stop them, but it hindered them enough that classes could continue. 

So they continued though the grades, and neither of them noticed when their arguments slowly slid into heated bickering, or that they would each turn to the other first as others would their best friends. 

It all came to a head in fourth grade, when Legolas tried to grab the special mechanical pencil that Gimli’s father had given him, demanding that Gimli let him see. Gimli had done his best to keep the pencil out of Legolas’s hands, but Legolas’s arms were much longer and then ended up tussling across the floor. Mrs Galadriel sat them next to each other with the firm instructions that they would learn to sort out their differences _or else _. They both bowed their heads, “Yes ma’am. Sorry, ma’am,” and kept the fighting to the playground.__

__Then Legolas went missing for a week. Gimli huffed through the first day, saying class had never been better. He huffed the second day, too, but his eyes were worried. By the third day, Gimli asked the teacher, if Legolas was okay. With a soft expression, Mrs. Galadriel told Gimli that Legolas was missing because his mother had passed away, and did Gimli know what that meant?_ _

__Gimli knew what that meant. His own little family was still alive, but his Uncle Kriln, Fili and Kili’s father, had passed, and Gimli could see the sadness still on Aunt Dis’s face._ _

__“Is he coming back?” Gimli asked then, voice small. He couldn’t think about loosing his own mother, but he could see Aunt Dis’s sadness on his father’s face, and that was horrible enough. To think about Legolas…_ _

__Mrs. Galadriel nodded. “He should be back on Monday. And I want you to be careful, okay?”_ _

__Gimli frowned up at her. Of course he would be careful. Legolas was a stupid-head and a ninny, but family was _different_. “I will,” was all he said, though, because you don’t say things like that to Mrs. Galadriel. _ _

__Sure enough, Legolas was back on Monday, looking pale and red-eyed. He wouldn’t raise his hand to answer questions. He just barely picked up his pencil to write his answers down._ _

__In the middle of math, Legolas must have pressed too hard because his pencil point snapped, and he jumped, staring at the point as if he didn’t know what happened. Without a word, Gimli handed over his mechanical pencil, and took Legolas’s to the sharpener by the door. When he sat back down, Legolas was staring at the pencil in his hand, looking more aware than he had all day._ _

__“Well?” Gimli whispered. “Don’t just stare at it!”_ _

__Legolas looked at Gimli then, and Gimli had to fidget, shifting in his seat. He’d never seen that look on Legolas’s face before, like he was looking at Gimli and liked what he saw. Like Gimli had years ago when he saw Legolas’s hair._ _

__“I bet I can finish more problems than you,” Gimli challenged._ _

__Legolas grinned. “You’re on!” It was the first thing he said all day, and Gimli was so proud of himself for that, he didn’t even care that Legolas beat him by one._ _


	2. An Important Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gimli knows Legolas wants to tell him something, but what?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again, thank you proxydialogue!
> 
>  
> 
> **Edit!** Whoops. I changed the ages of the boys in this chapter from 13 to 16, because I mis-remembered my timeline from _Family_. It's all better now. :)

There was something wrong with Legolas. Gimli looked at his friend sideways as, once again, Gimli’s avatar beat Legolas’s score. They had been playing this game for three months straight after Gimli got it for his sixteenth birthday, and Gimli had _never_ beaten Legolas. With a heavy sigh, Gimli paused the game. 

“Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you or not, because it’s no good winning when you’re like this.” 

Legolas looked sheepish. “I can’t hide anything from you, can I?” 

“Nope,” Gimli said and turned to face Legolas on the bed. Legolas laughed softly and looked down at his hands, his long hair hiding his face. Gimli envied that hair: he’d been growing his for months, but until it was long enough to pull back it stuck out from his head in every direction. 

“There _is_ something I want to tell you, but…” Legolas paused, and Gimli could imagine him biting his lip the way he always did when he was unsure. “I’m afraid that you…that you wont…” he sighed. “I’m scared.” 

Gimli was starting to get scared himself. He didn’t know _anything_ that Legolas would need to be afraid of.

Except…

Did Legolas not want to be friends anymore? Was it something Gimli did? Gimli swallowed thickly. Legolas was too important to loose. 

Before he could think too hard about it, Gimli reached out and grabbed Legolas’s hand. The usually dry hand was clammy, like Gimli’s were. Legolas started, but gripped Gimli’s hand tight. Tight like he didn’t want to loose Gimli either. 

Gimli’s heart started to pound. He wondered if this would be the moment, the one that Gimli didn’t want to think about because it made his heart beat fast in ways that were scary but also wonderful and he didn’t know if he wanted it to be or not because both would be the best and worst thing to happen. 

“I haven’t told anybody else,” Legolas said. “It didn’t seem right to tell anybody before you.” 

Gimli wanted to say “spit it out” because the wait was killing him: was this what he thought it was? But Legolas needed to get it out on his own. 

Legolas steeled himself and said, “Gimli, I’m gay.” 

And there it was, out in the open. Gimli blinked, a certain satisfaction that he was right warring with a strange disappointment that was all together too confusing for him to look at now. Either way, Legolas was looking at him like he was waiting for Gimli to lay a sentince, and he had to focus on that right now. 

Gimli shook his head, keeping his voice as calm as possible. “So?” He said. Because, in the end, Legolas being gay wasn’t actually a big deal (except for all the ways in which it was, but that had less to do with Legolas being gay, than _Gimli_ knowng Legolas was gay and that making it seem like a pretty big deal, but not in a bad way). 

Legolas looked at him, hurt, and Gimli fumbled. “I mean—I can see how you’d be scared to tell people, but you didn’t actually think I’d, I dunno…?” 

“Hate me?” Legolas filled in. “No, not that. But I worried it would get weird. Too weird, you know. That being friends with that gay kid would be too much.” 

Gimli snorted. “If being friends with that allergic kid wasn’t too weird, this is nothing.” Legolas chuckled and Gimli smiled; he loved the way Legolas laughed. “And I mean, it’s not like you’re the first gay guy I know, I mean. Uncle Thorin and Uncle Dwalin used to be a thing, you know. And Ori came out, like, a year ago.” 

“I remember,” Legolas said, softly. “I thought Nori was going to hurt himself laughing at the look on Dori’s face when Ori told him.” 

“That was mostly because Ori yelled it. I don’t think Dori ever expected Ori to speak above a whisper.” 

Legolas hummed. “So…you’re not weirded out?” Legolas asked, still anxious. 

“Phhpht, no,” Gimli said. He squeezed Legolas’s hand. “And if anybody starts shit, I’ll break their nose.” 

Legolas laughed, carefree like Gimli hadn’t seen in a while—and just how long had Legolas been worried about this before Gimli noticed. There was no time to beat himself up over it, however, because Legolas let go of Gimli and grabbed his controller. The game was back on. 

The next day, Gimli went to Ori with a special request. Ori listened, and nodded with a small, pleased grin. Ori grabbed his yarn and the two of them watched Cartoon Network while Ori worked. Gimli left with his prize shoved deep into his pocket. 

At school Monday morning, Gimli grabbed Legolas and pulled him into the semi-privacy around the side of the building. 

“Gimli, what…?” 

“I’ve got something for you,” Gimli said, and shoved the bunched up yarn into Legolas’s hand. “You don’t have to wear it until you’re ready, but I want you to have it. So…yeah.” Gimli shifted in his feet, hands shoved deep into his pockets. 

Legolas opened his hand and looked. Sitting in his palm was a woven bracelet of rainbow yarn. Legolas closed his hand and smiled at Gimli. Bending down, Legolas kissed Gimli’s cheek in thanks. It wasn’t the first time, but it was the first time Gimli turned red. 

“Thank you, Gimli,” Legolas said, his own cheeks just as flushed. 

Gimli grumbled out a “you’re welcome” and then they had to run inside as the warning bell sounded. 

Legolas started wearing the bracelet a week later, head held high.


	3. The Park

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a few bruises and a few changes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to proxydialogue who has been demanding fic and urging me to keep writing.

Not everyone was impressed by Legolas’s new arm-wear. Most of the student body, honestly, did not care. So the weird vegan kid with the crazy food allergies was gay. So what? Gimli had overheard Boromir muttering to his brother that he’d known all along, and Gimli only stopped himself from introducing his fist to Boromir’s face by the look Faramir had given in response. Boromir had backtracked, saying there wasn’t anything wrong, he’d just kinda figured it’d never been a secret, that’s all. 

Gimli had grunted to himself and continued down the hallway, Kili and Fili exchanging a look over his head that, if he had seen, would have made him very worried. 

Kili, a year Gimli’s senior, was still in his grade do the lateness of his birthday. He wrapped his arm around Gimli’s shoulder, and Gimli stiffened, wondering just what his cousin was up to. “My dear brother,” Kili begain, “I do believe that our little Gimli has developed his first crush.” 

“What!” Gimli said, shaking Kili off and stepping back, only to step into Fili’s space. Fili, two years older and a Senior, leaned his head over Gimli’s shoulder. 

“Why, I do believe you are correct, brother dear,” Fili said. “Look at the way he turns red.” 

“Almost matches his hair.” 

“Hmm.” 

“Fuck both of you,” Gimli muttered, and stomped away to the sound of their laughter. It would sting less if he was more sure that it wasn’t true. 

Gimli stormed all the way to Geometry. Legolas was already there, laughing at something Aragon had said, or possibly the look on Aragorn’s face. Arwen was sitting in the front of the class, casting shy looked at him over her shoulder and Aragorn looked like there should be cartoon hearts popping over his head. Something eased in Gimli, and he let his anger go, taking his usual seat next to Legolas and snorting at Aragorn’s expression. 

Legolas looked at Gimli with a wicked smirk. “Do you know, Gimli, that Arwen smells like cherry blossoms?” 

Gimli raised an eyebrow. “Uh…no?” He said, opening his notebook. He saw a flush of red creep up the back of Aragorn’s neck. “I mean, uh…really?” 

“Mm hmm,” Legolas said. “It’s that right, Aragorn? And that her skin is a soft as kitten fur?” 

“No,” Gimli said, mock shocked. “That soft?” 

“Oh, yes,” Legolas said. “And that—“

“I hate you both,” Aragron interrupted, turning around to glare at them. Legolas smiled back, looking almost completely innocent. Gimli couldn’t help his smug grin, and honestly, didn’t want to.

“You love us,” Gimli countered. “We keep life interesting.” 

Aragorn grunted and turned around. Legolas covered his mouth to smother his giggled, turning in toward Gimli. Gimli felt warmed by the action, and he smiled long into the lesson. 

***

Legolas and Gimli didn’t have the _exact_ same schedule, but that was merely because Gimli had opted for metal shop while Legolas took horticulture. In all other classes, they were equal, a rarity as they hadn’t been the year before and knew they probably wouldn’t be the next year. Still, they took advantage where they could, and had started carrying only one textbook between them early on. It meant they didn’t have to go back to their lockers as often, and also that they were able to keep one set in school and another at Gimli’s, so they never had to carry more than their notebooks in their backpacks (or, rather, in Legolas’s case, a hemp messenger bag his father had brought back from Brazil.)

This lack of weigh came in handy, as they were then able to carry their bags all day if they decided they didn’t want to go straight home after school. (The first time Legolas had said that, and Gimli realized that he meant _his_ house, Gimli had smiled so large that Boromir had asked if something was wrong with his face. Aragorn had smacked the back of Boromir’s head, but refused to say why.) 

When the final bell rang, Legolas turned to Gimli with a grin. “Do you want to get ice cream?” 

Gimli had frowned. “You’re allergic to ice cream,” he said. 

Legolas rolled his eyes. “ _Regular_ ice cream, sure,” he said. “But _Bilbo’s_ put in dairy-free soft serve the other day. It’s supposed to be very good.” _Bilbo’s_ was a specialty grocery store in the section of downtown called “Hobbiton,” and was where Legolas got most of his food. They catered to the hipster set with organic foods and specialty flavors, but they also had a large variety of gluten-free, egg-free, and dairy-free products, including fresh bakery goods and, apparently, ice cream.

“I could go to _Bilbo’s_ ,” Gimli said. It was an open secret that most of the cul de sac loved _Bilbo’s_ baked goods. Uncle Thorin was fond of the breads, while Dwalin was notorious for his love of the cookies and scones. Gimli preferred the brownies, himself. It wasn’t uncommon for Gimli and Legolas to go to _Bilbo’s_ after school before cutting through the part to head back to the cul de sac where Gimli lived, along with most of his extended relations. Next to Gimli’s home was Uncle Thorin and Aunt Dis with Fili and Kili. Balin and Dwalin lived next to them with Dori, Ori, and occasianlly Nori on their other side. Next to Gimli in the other direction was Bifur, Bofur, and Bombor and his wife and their brood of children. It had happened only partially deliberately when the family moved from Erebor to the suburbs, and mixed the best part of nighborhood life with the best part of suburbia. Legolas, who technically lived on the other side of town had remarked in the past that he liked it better than the way he and his family were spread across three developments. 

Legolas grinned, and the two of them started the fifteen-minute walk downtown. 

It was a lovely spring day, and Legolas practically danced around Gimli as they walked, jumping up onto curbs like balance beams, and laughing. Gimli smiled as he walked straight on, happy to see Legolas to carefree. 

“I was thinking,” Legolas said, falling into step with Gimli. Gimli looked up; Legolas had recently hit a growth sprut that Gimli was pretty sure that he, himself, was never going to hit, and looking up at his friend took a little getting used to. 

“Uh oh,” Gimli said. 

Legolas snorted and knocked into Gimli with his shoulder, huffing when he bounced off and Gimli didn’t even move. Gimli grinned. What he lacked in height he more than made up for in solid muscle. 

“I want to be an elf in the fair this year,” Legolas said. Gimli raised an eyebrow, looking Legolas over. They had both been going to the local Renissaince Faire for years, let in with the merchants to help Gimli’s mother with her blacksmith stall, or his father and Uncle Oin with their jewelry, but had never, really played characters. 

“I think you could,” Gimli said. “We can talk to Ori when we get back.” Dori, and by extension Ori, had a clothing stall and were responsible for kitting out the families when they worked the faire, as it was something they had all come to do over the years. Dwalin and Thorin demonstrated weapons, Dis tended bar. Bifur had a toystand with Bofur, who usually played his flute outside to entertain the kids. Bofur would spend a day with a foodstand, but really couldn’t get away from his restaurant more than that. Nobody was quite sure what Nori did, but Gimli thought it had something to do with security and the prevention of pickpockets. 

“And you? Are you going to branch out this year?” 

Gimli shrugged. “I thought about going full dwarf, but I’m not sure I could pull it off until my beard grows in further.” 

Legolas mock-frowned and tweaked the rather full, if short, beard on Gimli’s face. “I dunno. Looks pretty grown to me.” 

“That’s only because you couldn’t grow a beard if your life depended on it.” 

Legolas shugged, unconcerned, and Gimli thought maybe, just maybe, he’d be talking to Ori, too. 

_Bilbo’s_ was less crowded than usual, probably because most people were loath to go inside on such a nice day, and Legolas made a bee line for the “ice cream” machines in the back. They appeared to be self-serve, clearly labeled with their ingredients, and next to a toppings bar that was kept lidded to prevent cross contamination. Not for the first time, Gimli wondered if Mr. Bilbo had known someone with Legolas’s level of allergies. 

Mr. Bilbo was the owner of the shop, and it’s namesake. His nephew, Frodo, and his cousins Merry and Pippin, all worked in the shop, as well as Sam, the son of Mr. Bilbo’s neighbor. Gimli waved to Frodo and Sam, who were just going on shift, and laughed when he saw Merry and Pippin rush in the front door to the back, obviously late and possibly trying to create an alibi for some sort of prank. 

Gimli was peering into the bakery display…was that bacon-topped chocolate doughnuts? When Legolas appeared at his side, eyeing the cup of ice cream in his hands hungrily. He passed one to Gimli, and Gimli frowned at it. “What is it?” he asked. 

“Mine is green-tea flavored soy soft serve with honey, and yours is chocolate with peanuts and marshmallow sauce.” 

Gimli grinned. “You made me Rocky Road.” 

Legolas shrugged, the tips of his ears going red. “It’s your favorite.” 

“That it is,” Gimli said. “Come on, I’ll buy before they melt.” 

Legolas followed Gimli to the single open register by the door, only to nearly run Gimli over when he stopped short. “Is that…?” Legolas whispered. 

Gimli nodded. “Uncle Thorin,” he said. The man in question stiffened, and straightened from where he had been leaning against the counter. Leaning _flirtatiously_ against the counter. He looked over at them. “Gimli. Legolas.” 

“Hello, boys,” Bilbo said, as red as Thorin wasn’t, flustered by pushing through. Gimli could feel Legolas holding back his giggles. “Ah! I see you found the ice cream! I have to admit, I thought of you when I first saw them, Legolas.” 

“Thank you, Mr Bilbo,” Legolas said, and Gimli nearly swallowed his tongue at the fond look Thorin sent Bilbo’s way. Gimli reached for his money, and Bilbo waved him off.

“First one’s on the house,” Bilbo said. “If you like it, spread the word and come back for more.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Bilbo,” Gimli said, and put his money away. 

“Tell your parents I said hello,” Thorin said to Gimli and Gimli nodded as Legolas led him away. Not two steps outside and the boys couldn’t hold in their laugher. 

“Did you see that!” Legolas said. 

“I which I hadn’t,” Gimli snickered. “Old people flirting. Ugh.” 

Legolas laughed. “Thorin looked like Dwalin with his hand cought in a cookie jar.” Gimli snorted. “I think it’s sweet, though. Do you think your uncle and Mr. Bilbo would work?” 

Gimli hmmed and tried a bite of his ice cream. It wasn’t *quite* perfect, but Gimli had gotten used to the taste of soy ice cream over the years. “I think so. Mr. Bilbo isn’t s pushover, and I think Uncle Thorin needs someone who wont back down when he gets blustery.” 

Legolas smiled, and took his own spoonful. He moaned around the spoon and Gmili nearly choked on his own mouthful. “Oh, that’s good,” Legolas said. 

“Yeah,” Gimli agree, throat dry. 

They crossed into the park headed for the picnic benches to finish their treat under the trees. They sat, as they usually did, side-by-side and facing out, thighs and shoulders casually brushing against each other. Gimli wondered just how long that had been the norm, but couldn’t really think beyond the tingling rush that accompanied each point of contact and the effort to keep himself focused on his ice cream. 

They didn’t talk. They didn’t need to. It was enough for them to just be here, together, and Gimli took comfort in that. 

“The fuck is this?” 

Gimli and Legolas both stiffened at the harsh voice. It had come from the other side of the picnic table, and, together, they turned to see who had spoken. 

The letterman jacket identified them as football players from MORIA voctech, the local alternative High School, and Gimli swore under his breath. MORIA had, once upon a time, been simply a vocational high school, but in recent years it had become a place for the troubled youth, the delinquents and students with “behavioral problems.” To see not just one, but several, and those nasty looks on their faces, made Gimli wish he really _was_ a dwarf because then, at least, he’d have his ax. 

No matter. If they started shit, Gimli would finish it with his fists. 

“Fuckin’ faggots think they can come here, to our park? There are children here.” The speaker was particularly ugly, and looked as if he had taken one too many footballs to the face. The others were jeering behind him. Legolas was silent, still, and Gimli alone knew it to be anger and not fear. 

Gimli snorted. “You want a fight, just say so. Don’t bother trying to think of excuses, your tiny brains can’t bear the strain.” 

The gleeful malice shifted to angered threat and Legolas and GImli stood, back to back. “That might not have been wise,” Legolas murmured. 

“They try anything, we’ll crush ‘em,” Gimli said. 

“This is not, actually a video game,” Legolas hissed, but when one of the MORIA jocks came up to him, Legolas straightened, and Gimli could feel him shifting onto the balls of his feet. 

“Fuck this,” the one in charge said. “Fuck ‘em up.” 

The football players charged and for the next few moments that was all Gimli knew. He ducked punches and threw his own back, hitting less than he would like, but also more than he had expected. Legolas, quick on his feet and nimble, was dancing around them, nearly playing. 

Then one landed a lucky hit on Legolas’s eye. Legolas cried out and Gimli saw red. His next punch landed square in the leader’s nads, and the MORIA jock doubled over. Gimli would have kept going, but Legolas’s grabbed his wrist and pulled, and they were running through the park and out the other side, cutting through lawns and across streets until they reached the cul de sac, and burst through Gimli’s front door, startling Gloin and Hama. 

“The hell…?” Gloin said, standing and rushing over to them, even as Hama went to the refrigerator and pulled out a steak. Gimli let his father lead them over to the kitchen table, and pulled his chair as close to Legolas as he dared. 

“Look up,” Hama said to Legolas, and he tilted his head up, hissing as the cold meat touched his face. 

“I thought this was an old wives tale?” Legolas said wryly, and Hama flicked his ear. 

“When you’ve patched up as many people as I have, then you can comment on my first aid,” she said. “Now talk. Who do did this, and how many? My forge can only hide so many bodies at a time.” 

Legolas rolled his good eye, but Gimli had to wonder. 

Still, he frowned, and folded his arms. Gloin hissed at the sight of GImli’s bloody knuckles, and fetched Oin’s first aid kit from downstairs. As Gloin cleaned Gimli’s hand, Gimli told them about the boys in the park. That they were attacked for no reason, fought back to get away, and ran straight home. 

“Did you nock any of them out?” Hama asked. 

“One,” Gimli said, and Gloin puffed up. 

Legolas grinned a sharp little grin. “Nut shot. Kid cried, too.” 

Gloin turned to Legolas’s hands, and Gimli saw him pause when he noticed Legolas’s bracelet. But, Gloin didn’t say anything, just patched up what he needed to and dismissed the boys to the other room, telling them they could set up Gimli’s XboX downstairs on the big television if they wanted to. 

Gimli nodded, and led the way upstairs. It was a rare treat to be able to use the hi def TV downstairs, and Gimli didn’t want to waste any time. He crouched down to unplug the system, and realized Legolas was hovering in the doorway.

“You gonna stand there, or you gonna grab the controllers?” Gimli asked. 

Legolas hesitated, then shut the door behind him. “I’m sorry,” he said. 

Gimli stopped and turned, still crouched down. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” Legolas repeated. “If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have—“

“Stop,” Gimli said, holding up a hand. “Don’t even. It wasn’t you, it was them, and that’s all there is to it.” 

“Still,” Legolas said. “They targeted you because of me. They thought you were gay, too.” 

Gimli rolled his eyes and turned back to the console. “I don’t care.” 

Legolas paused. “You don’t care?” 

“That’s what I said,” Gimli said. 

“Why?” Gimli shot a sour look over his shoulder. If Legolas hadn’t sounded so damned sincere, he would have belted him. 

“Why,” he scoffed. “Because you’re my friend, you idiot. Because I’d stand up for anybody against that kind of ignorance. Because…” Gimli took a deep breath. “Because maybe it’s not that far from the truth.” 

There was silence behind him, and Gimli closed his eyes. “Gimli…?” Legolas asked, softly. 

“I don’t know if I’m gay,” Gimli said. “But I know I’m not entirely straight. Because no straight guy would feel the way I do about you, and I know that just because you came out to me, doesn’t mean you feel the same way, but you _are_ my friend, and I’ve been quiet about this since you told me, and I just can’t anymore, okay? It’s too big to be a secret.” Gimli stopped, and licked his lips. He couldn’t hear anything over the pounding in his hears, and so the gentle hand Legolas put on his shoulders made him jump, and he turned his head sharply to look. 

Legolas was biting his lip again, eyes bright and cheeks pink, and Gimli couldn’t look away from where that white tooth was pressed into soft flesh. Legolas’s lips parted in surprise and Gimli leaned in, and kissed him. 

It was a chase kiss, not much more than a press of their lips, but Legolas gapsed and closed his eyes, fingers tightening on Gimli’s shoulder, and Gimli placed a hand on Legolas’s knee. They pulled away slowly, foreheads pressed together. 

“I do, you know,” Legolas said into the scant space between them. “Feel the same way. And I want this, us, to be a thing.” 

“Good,” Gimli said. “Because I really want to kiss you, again.” Legolas laughed, but then he was the one to lean in and their second kiss was as sweet as their first. 

“Come on,” Gimli said. “My parents are waiting for us to set up the XboX.” 

Legolas nodded and stood, gathering the controllers and Gimli carried the console downstairs. In the kitchen, Hama was cooking and Legolas lit up when he recognized the smell of his favorite foods. He grabbed sodas for himself and Gimli while Gimli hooked up on console, and Gimli grinned when Oin cornered Legolas on his way back with hemorrhoid cream. “It’ll reduce the swelling around your eye,” Oin said. 

Legolas sat next to Gimli with a vaguely horrified expression on his face, and Gimli laughed until it softened, and then the laugher caught in his throat because, _God_ Legolas was beautiful. 

Then, of course, the bastard had to go and steal controller one, and then of course, Gimli avatar had to kick Legolas’s ass. 

They picked back up after dinner, until Gloin and Hama said their goodnights. Legolas had spent enough random nights at Gimli’s that he had a change of clothes and pajamas in one of Gimli’s drawers upstairs, and it wasn’t until afther they’d changed that Gimli realized he was alone with his new boyfriend in their pajamas. 

Legolas seemed to realize the same thing, because he suggested, with a shy smirk, that the winner of the next round get to claim a kiss from the loser. Gimli would forever swear that he hadn’t lost on purpose. 

They fell asleep that night without going farther than a few traded kisses, but when Gimli woke to Legolas’s smile, it was full of promise for the future.


	4. The Fellowship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Battle of the Bands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> quick-betad by Proxydialogue
> 
> This bit takes place a few days after the last chapter.
> 
> songs here: [Love Reign O'er Me](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gDbAtWpoA6k)  
> here: [I Believe In A Thing Called Love](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sRYNYb30nxU)  
> and here: [Fat Bottomed Girls](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VMnjF1O4eH0)

Growing up, Gimli was well aware of the looks his family gathered. They were all of them brawny, rough around the edges and several had visible tattoos (and the rest had tattoos that just happened to be hidden. The men wore their hair as long as the women, and most had, if not full bears, then thick mustaches. Not a one was clean-shaven. They, all of them, wore old denim and black band shirts and leather worn to second skin, and it never struck Gimli as odd until he realized that not everybody’s father went to work with his beard safely tucked behind a bandana. Gimli quickly grew to understand that people were afraid of his family, or didn’t trust them, because they rode motorcycles instead of driving cars, and listened to heavy rock music. 

It just never made sense to him. His mother didn’t love him less because she drove him to school sometimes on the back of her Harley. His father didn’t love him less because he had scrolling knotwork tattooed up each arm. They were nor _bad_ people just because they liked to party loud and boisterous around the grill setup that Thorin and Dwalin had set up in the back between their houses. 

But the biggest misconception that made Gimli shake with frustrated rage, was that his family was _uncultured_. Hama had snorted at that one, saying that just because their culture wasn’t one that the mainstream liked, didn’t mean it was less of a culture. 

Legolas had attached to that word, saying that his father often criticized the mainstream, because they were wrong anyway. Hama and Gloin had had interesting looks on their faces at that statement. 

“Ah, lad, it’s not quite the same thing,” Gloin had said, but didn’t say anything further. 

Gimli knew Legolas’s dad wasn’t anything like his parents, so he wasn’t quite sure who, exactly, this mainstream was, as he’d always thought Legolas’s dad was part of it. 

The point was, there was a lot of culture, and a lot of _art_ on the cul de sac. Almost everyone there worked with their hands to create art, be it the tattoos that Dwalin and Thorin did or the food Bombor would make. 

Mostly, though, there was music. 

Everyone played an instrument, or sang, or both. Strings were the instrument of choice, with everything from guitar to Thorin’s harp and Dwalin’s viola. Fili and Kili learned to fiddle and Dori played the banjo. Gimli’s father played the guitar, and Gimli learned to play his father’s axe as soon as his fingers were large enough to span the frets. Ori played the clarinet. Bofur played a wooden flute and Bombor and Oin played percussion. Nori played a harmonica, Gimli was partially sure it was ironic, and Dis played a mean bass. Hama was the odd one out, as she played mostly the trumpet, but she could play anything from a tuba to a bugle, and could sing like an angel besides. 

So, when the first stuffy old lady called Gimli’s family _uncultured_ , Gimli thought of the late summer night jam sessions and wondered just what culture this woman thought they were missing. 

Funnily enough, it was Aragorn who first thought of starting a band in the doldrums before freshman year. Oin gave permission to use his old set in Gimli’s garage, so that’s where they started. At first it was the three of them: Gimli on bass, Aragorn playing lead, and Legolas on vocals. Then, they add Boromir on drums (who really is their friend, even if he acts like a dick sometimes), and the fist lineup of _The Fellowship_ is complete. 

By the end of Freshman year, they’ve added Frodo on keyboards to make use of the piano lessons his grandmother made him take, and Sam to take care of the tech. Merry and Pippin usually show up to rehearsals, anyway, as added backing vocals and playing the odd extra instrument, but mostly groupies/roadies. 

Their first audience that wasn’t whomever was home on the cul de sac when they raised the garage door, happened to be Legolas’s cousin Arwen, and her older brothers Elladan and Elrohir. They also weren’t a planned audience; Arwen had been sent by her father to collect Legolas, and the twins had decided to drive her, to show off their new licenses. 

The Fellowship was mid-song when they pulled up, and loud enough that they didn’t notice the sound of the engine or the car doors, and rocking a cover of “Baba O’Riley,” hard enough that the didn’t notice anyone watching until Arwen started to clap. 

Legolas, who had been facing the drums, spun and almost tripped on the microphone wire. Arwen was beaming as she clapped, but she was looking at Aragorn, who was bright red as he stared back. The twins, however, were also clapping, but grinning at Legolas. 

“Little cousin!” Elladan said. “We didn’t know you could sing like that?”

“You’ve real talent,” Elrohir added. 

“Of course he does,” Gimli said from behind Legolas, like the twins were slow for not knowing earlier. 

“You all do,” Arwen said. 

Boromir kicked the bass drum once and Aragorn jumped. 

“I guess that’s my cue to leave,” Legolas said, turning off the mic. Sam jumped up and took it from him before Legolas could wrap the cord around the handle. 

“You play anywhere?” Elrohir asked.

“Not yet,” Legolas said. “We’ve mostly done cover songs, you know?”

“You should do the battle of the bands,” Elladan said. “You’re better that what we usually get, anyway.” 

“Yeah,” Elrohir said. “You’ll be a breath of fresh air.” 

The band looked at each other. Gimli nodded. “All right, we’ll give it a try.” 

Three years later, they had played in several Battle of the Bands, willing trophies and bragging rights and cash prizes. They’d come in first, second, fourth and once dead last, but they always auditioned, always played, and always rocked. 

Three months after Gimli and Legolas became, officially, _Gimli and Legolas,_ , he was standing next to Legolas, trying to keep his palms from sweating so much that his guitar slipped from his hands, and waiting for the band before them to finish their set. Gimli knew he had no reason to be nervous, not really. But he and Legolas had decided to tell the band about the two of them _after_ the show, to keep the dynamic from becoming weird, but there was no helping it. Gimli could admit, now, that he’d wanted to kiss the blong before this, but now that he knew that he _could_ …

Legolas looked amazing, like a younger blonder David Bowie in his tight pants and low-necked black tee-shirt. He had a necklace of an enameled leaf resting just below the hollow of his throat, and had let Arwen shade his eyes. Though they were all wearing a variation on the same thing, black shirt and jeans, Legolas far outshone Gimli and even Aragorn, who had been drawing a lot of attention since he had gained a few inches. Legolas actually _looked_ like a rock star. 

If they were going by looks alone, they’d have this in the bag. 

The group on stage wasn’t bad—okay, that was a lie. The group on stage could barely manage to stay in the same key, let alone to a consistent tempo. The singer was overpoweringly loud and off and Legolas, every few moments, rubbed his ear. As bad as it was for Gimli, it must be worst for him, who had perfect pitch. 

Finally, _finally_ , the lead singer was saying the band’s goodbyes, and then Sam and Boromir were bringing the drums and hookups onto stage and there was no more time to worry. 

They could play no more than ten minutes, and so they’d settled on three songs; The Who’s “Love Reign Over Me”, The Darkness,’ “I Believe In a Thing Called Love,” and Queen’s “Fat Bottomed Girls,” all of which showcased a certain degree of technical skill as well as the power and range of Legolas’s voice. 

Frodo started with his keyboard set to piano, kicked off the pre-recorded violins curtesy of Fili and Kili and Legolas started to sing with when Boromir kicked in with the drums. 

_Only love_  
Can make it rain  
The way the beach is kissed by the sea.  
Only love  
Can make it rain  
Like the sweat of lovers'  
Laying in the fields. 

_Love, reign o'er me.  
Love, reign o'er me, rain on me._

There had been much question of which songs to play, and which order to play them in, and as Legolas _killed_ the chorus, Gimli knew they had made the right decision. 

Opening with The Who was a brilliant move: it used all of their talents, all of their tricks, in a stirring event of sound that couldn’t _not_ move the judges. And, as Legolas sang, “The nights are hot and black and ink/I can’t sleep and I lay and I think/Oh God, I need a drink of cool, cool rain,” Even Gimli got the chills.

Frodo faded out the violins and Aragorn started right in over the fade, not giving an inch as he struck the opening chords of “I Believe In A Thing Called Love.”  
Then, Legolas started to play. He strutted over to Gimli leaning up and into his space as he sang, _”Can’t believe all the feelings that you’re makin’ me feel/My heart’s in overdrive and you’re behind the steering wheel.”_

Gimli braced his feet, because what else could he do, and focused on his fretting rather than the way Legolas was dancing in his personal space. From the corner of his eye, he could see Aragorn watching with a barely suppressed smirk. Gimli grumbled to himself, and let his frustration filter into making his “rock” face even more badass. 

By the time Legolas was hitting and holding his final high note, the entire place was with them, singing along and cheering. Gimli, Legolas, and Aragorn stood in a line as the guitars played the final riff, rocking back and forth in unison to a swelling of cheers. A final note, and they stopped on a dime, muting strings and catching cymbals. Gimli and Aragorn approached the two standing mikes, and after only a beat, began to sing harmony to Legolas. 

 

_Oh! You gonna take me home tonight,_  
Oh! Down beside that red firelight.  
Oh! You gonna let it all hang out  
Fat Bottomed Girls, you make the rocking world go round!” 

The guitars kicked in, and the drums started to pound, and you almost couldn’t hear Legolas singing, rougher and lower than he had all evening, over the roar of the crowd. When Gimli and Aragorn joined Legolas for the chorus, the room sang along. 

_”Get on your bikes and Ride!”_ Legolas cried out and they played out through the guitar solo, ending with a crash of drums, and the room was on their feet, and Gimli realized he was grinning as he took off his bass and raised it with one hand above his head in victory. 

Then Gimli caught a flash of gold out of the corner of his eyes, and Legolas was there, grabbing him by the sides of his face and kissing him in front of the audience, the band, and everybody. There were a few gasps from the crowd, a wolf whistle or two, and a call from Boromir that they were very happy for the two of them, but seriously, get a room. 

Still, Gimli didn’t care because he was kissing his _boyfriend_ after truly _wrecking_ the set and everything was _right_ with the world.


End file.
